Those Years of Innocence and Grief
by RandomMumble
Summary: 'Why' I recall my lonesome young self choking out, crying in my childhood bed. 'Why' And why have I never had the courage to ask you face to face? ...you should know... - Snape pondering over his childhood and abusive father. -Snape's PoV- -OneShot-


**Title****: **_**Those Years of Innocence and Grief **_

**Disclaimer****: **No copyright infringements intended! 

**Summary****: **'Why?' I recall my lonesome young self choking out, crying in my childhood bed. 'Why?' And why have I never had the courage to ask you face to face? ...you should know... Severus Snape pondering over his childhood and abusive father. –Snape's PoV– –One-Shot–

**Characters:** Severus Snape

**Genre****: **Angst

**Rating****:** T

**Words****:** 2.391

**A/N****: **Thank you so much, _**WickedTorchwoodFan**_, for your awesome Beta-service! =) Credit for readability goes entirely to you! ;)

Btw, I have this '...-thing' – I use them far too often. Lately helpful readers (and now _WickedTorchwoodFan)_ began pointing it out to me and I can't thank them enough for it! It's really, really good if you make a constant mistake and people tell you. Otherwise you would do it again and again. So if you find any mistakes in my writing, don't be afraid to say so! It's not mean, it's just honest! =) And it helps to improve. So, thank you, _WickedTorchwoodFan_ and everybody else who told me!

_~xxx~ _

So many times I asked one question. One _silly_ question asked when I was just a child and didn't know anything about life and its many ways of torment. '_Why?'_ I recall my lonesome young self choking out, crying in my childhood bed. _'Why?_' And why have I never had the courage to ask you face to face? …you should know…

The most prominent memory I remember from my early days was my crying mother.

There was a time when I sat in the kitchen and witnessed an argument between you and mother. I don't remember what exactly you were fighting about, but I still see you, how you pointed at me, not moving your gaze from her and barking, '_At least he's ashamed!_' – _Of what, father?_ – Yet I _was_, indeed. But _why_...

I then felt my heart pounding so hard I heard it in my ears, blocking every other noise out; I felt my it pounding through to my knees, which I had pulled up close to my chest, and its beat pounded into my hands. The countless shreds of the glass you broke earlier were still spread all over the room's floor. I got up; not really worried when I noticed that my eyesight had suddenly diminished. I walked barefoot over the shreds of glass littering the floor. I didn't even notice the glass cutting into my soles and there was no blood proving for the wounds – not yet anyway. As I tried to get into my room, blinded enough that I had to squint and my world going black, I remember myself praying I would make it to my bed before I would eventually black out completely. Mother must have come after me... for the next thing I know she was standing in front of me and shaking me, repeating the same words over and over.

'_Please, don't... don't, please, don't...' _

I don't know why I couldn't stand that rather small sting on that day. Normally I would have kept my mouth shut, listened closely to your angry shouts and counted the passing minutes... I suppose, it was that forsaken last tiny straw that broke the camel's back.

When I got up, some hours later remembering the broken glass and how it was my duty to clean it up I passed by the living room – now leaving deep red footprints on the way I walked. You were sitting there in your favourite chair, reading the newspaper and drinking some brownish liquid which sent its awful smell through the whole house. You didn't even look up though you heard me walk by. I cleaned the mess in the kitchen without a single word. Mother sat at the table, staring straight ahead, caught up in a world only she knew...

'_Crazy!'_ I can still hear you shouting at me. '_Crazy git!_' Am I? I suppose you must have been right... but who am I to know for sure?

I guess I can count myself lucky for the only bruises I received through your hands were slight cuts of newspapers or books you sent flying into my direction; sometimes a slap that wouldn't even leave a mark. I never had to endure the meticulous punishment and torment mother had to stand.

The one thing I will never understand is my own foolish urge for your attention. Yes, I knew you never cared for me, you didn't even have the capacity to hate me, and that made me want your approval all the more. The little boy I once was came running to your side, holding a childish drawing up and hoping his father would pat him on the shoulder and tell him, he did well. But you never said anything to those many drawings I showed to you while I still cared for your opinion...

I grew up, and I started to recognize the real you. It wasn't shocking though, my eyes opened slowly, giving me a new small piece of a perspective every now and then. I always heard mother's cries and begging words, ever since I can remember. Later on the sights added to my world. Mother spitting blood, holding her stomach; her trying to cure her own arm, distorted in a most unnatural way... too many pictures of pain to count. But whom am I trying to tell this? You know them all the best.

Neatly dressed – as neatly as possible with the little money we had – we had to attend your dinners in some too-expensive restaurant. This was just a once every few years thing, when you had no other choice than to bring us too. There were many nights when mother and I stayed at home alone, so I knew you went out a lot, but usually a pretty, young woman would be on your arm instead of my mother. I was also aware that you placed many such women in your bed, taking mother's place.

I think you were angry. With yourself more than us I suppose... but it was mother who had to take the blame. Everything was her fault. You didn't receive much money through your profession? It was her fault. You married a woman who didn't fit in your and your family's perfect picture? It was her fault. Your son heard you telling your wife that you prayed every night for her painful death and prayed that it would come soon? It was her fault. Your boss at work shouted at you, because you didn't do your part well? It was her fault as was everything else you didn't like, which was, Lord knows, enough.

I often questioned myself why mother never even tried to take me by the hand and just leave, go anywhere with me. Every possible place in this world would have been better. I would have preferred to sleep in a cardboard box on the streets if it meant escaping you and your anger. Sometimes I was angry with her because of her weakness. But then again... whenever she made an attempt to leave you, you threatened to take your own, her and my lives. Besides this, she always hoped for you to change. You wouldn't and we all knew it, but the silly hope of an exhausted mother and wife is untouchable; it's immortal.

The last time I saw her she still kept insisting that you were a good, _misunderstood_ man, who always did everything just for his family. _What_ did you do? What did you ever do that wasn't for yourself and for yourself alone? ...oh, father, never mind. Today I didn't come to ask you any questions.

I know you don't remember this, but there was this one time when you claimed everything was _green_ while you were sitting on the floor in the kitchen, knifes spread on the floor around you. Mother and I never found out whether you simulated or not, but it was indeed alienating the both of us. Did you know that this one strange moment was the reason why I hated the colour green for years? It didn't occur to me during those years, but today I am sure it was for this _stupid_ reason. When I got sorted into my house in Hogwarts I was aghast at its colour at first. However I did my best to get over my seemingly reasonless disdain – and it worked. I don't know why I'm telling you this... it is nothing of major importance; I guess I just want you to know. This is maybe just a good example for you and how you used to spoil random things for others. I still refuse to say some certain words, because you seemed to like them _especially_.

Talking about this event I recall a similar one... and again I'm sure you forgot that night too just after it had taken place. Mother was out, rather late, alone. You were mad. How dare she even leave the house without you? _Yes_... It was already pitch black outside and I was slumbering in my bed when you suddenly rushed into my room, grabbed my upper arm and dragged me into your and mother's sleeping room. I didn't know what was going to happen, why you forced me to come with you, but I didn't ask. For a short moment I was scared to sit down on your bed, but I didn't want to upset you. You began telling me about some special place... where the walls could _move_ all the time. Where only you, mother and I would be. Where mother would plant vegetables in the garden and where we would have cattle so we would never have to leave our home. Mother would have a very modern kitchen of her own and I would have a huge room where I could draw. I must confess, I was impressed that you have even noticed how much I liked to do draw, but on the other hand, mother never enjoyed cooking that much. I won't do you wrong, I don't know either if she had any real hobbies or not... and I suppose she never really knew herself. So when you told me about this lonely place, far away from civilisation, as you said, where everything just _changed_ when you wished for it to do so, where the three of us could easily get if we just said so, when you asked me if I thought that mother would want to come with us to this place too I found there was nothing magical about your place. Though today I know, there are indeed such weird places, yours was never real. Something in your words, moreover in your _voice_ made me suspicious that this place you were talking about wasn't on this earth. Afraid to upset you I ensured you that I would love to live there, that mother would also.

This night I escaped your clinging grip, your eyes filled with tears and wide with unnatural euphoria. I stood up and mumbled an excuse to be allowed to leave the room. I took a knife from the kitchen and hid it under my shirt, grabbed my old, worn and oversized coat and my boots with a good dozen holes in them and headed for the door. I shouted through the house for you to hear me, pretended that mother has called and wanted me to come to her for any reason. I heard you getting up in your room, but I didn't wait for a reply and just rushed through the door, just _out_. Just _away from you_. I ran through the village, the left boot on my left foot, the right foot bare, the other boot in my hand and the coat thrown loosely over my arm. It wasn't raining, but the streets must have been wet for I slipped several times. I was so ridiculously scared. I was positive that you were right on my heels, willing and ready to slit my throat. So I stormed into a pub where some Muggles were drinking together, I supposed you wouldn't try to hurt or even kill me in front of them. They saw me. As soon as I had entered the pub I collapsed onto the floor and sat there crying for about half an hour. When I had calmed down a bit I noticed the odd stares they gave me, but none of them dared to speak to me. Not even the owner of the pub said a word, I would have expected him to throw me out at least, but he didn't. He ignored me until I eventually got up again, dried my face from the shameless tears I'd shed and gathered my coat and boot from the ground. I left without a word and they seemed relieved.

I had to come back home. Mother didn't show up that night. When I entered the house, as quiet as possible I sneaked into my room and blocked my door with a stool. I didn't sleep – too scared to even lie down on the bed. The knife I had stolen from the kitchen was tightly in my grasp throughout the whole night.

However that night passed just as so many had before. Thinking about it today I find it silly of me. You could have _never_ killed me, nor mother. You were the one who was addicted to _us_. You _needed_ us! I just never recognized it when I was a child...

I stopped asking _why_ a long time ago. Or at least I stopped expecting a satisfying answer.

_This_ is what you've made me, father. And though I know there are many things I could grieve about and blame on you, I am also quite thankful. If you hadn't been such a perfect example on how _fake_ people could be, if I hadn't learned over the years to look past such a flawless facade, if you hadn't put me through all _this_ then I probably would've become an entirely different person.

Yes, father, you accidentally taught me a lot about life... love even. I learned to never judge a book by its cover, learned to be careful with whom to trust. I learned that love wasn't always reasonable, that love was something so precious people would do and endure almost everything to receive and keep it. I learned that love was _indeed_ worth nearly everything and after this I paved my path. Moreover I learned to stand my ground. You taught me to work hard; to stand tall through the roughest of storms, the darkest of nights; to wordlessly climb over every stone life could throw in my way, no matter how big, how _sharp_ and _violating_ it was.

Today, as I stand here, in front of you – in front of your grave; I don't wish to ask you any more questions. I don't want to accuse you of all the things you've done. I will _not_ thank you either. I know that you will never again have to hear what I've got to say to you. You will never have to acknowledge what you did to us, to mother, to me... and once again I feel betrayed by you, by life, death and your sneaky escape a fatal accident has offered you – an escape from life and the punishment you would have deserved.

_**Fin **_

_**~(xxx)~ **_

_AN:_ Okeydokey (why do I say this so often? I hate myself for it, it's the same with '_Alrighty'_ and me being so overly 'smiley-happy' – sorry!) I'd love to know your opinion! _Please, review_! And again, if you think I could do better here and there (which is certainly more than often the case with me ;D) feel free to tell me! Thank you already!


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